


dig your claws in

by greymadder (whatisausername)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blood, Blood and Torture, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rough Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatisausername/pseuds/greymadder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first their eyes had been heavy with morbid amusement, satisfied to bat him around in their little game of cat-and-mouse; now, however, they were blown wide and lit with hunger.</p><p>Whatever had come before had been their foreplay, and now they were no longer content to play with their food. They certainly weren't normal yakuza, much less human. </p><p>They were a pair of demons in human meat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dig your claws in

**Author's Note:**

> ***-JUST A WARNING-***  
> I'm serious about the graphic part, guys. There are several depictions of torture below. 
> 
> There is NO non-con in this story, however.
> 
> That being said, please enjoy this trash

_Crunch._

The dull sound of a leather-clad fist colliding with flesh was followed by the sound of something, somewhere inside, giving way.

_Squelch._

Blood flecked across a face that wore a disinterested expression, save for the exhilaration that shone in a pair of unnaturally blue eyes. A similar pair of blue eyes watched on from a distance, lit with the same thrill and perhaps a bit more.

_Thud._

The hand that curled into the collar of a – literally – broken man’s shirt suddenly loosened, dropping him into a crumpled and coughing heap on the floor. Handcuffs scraped against the tile as the man writhed, probably choking on a mixture of his own blood, saliva, and chunks of flesh from his tongue and insides of his cheek that he’d bitten off as he endured the torture. He lurched forward, hacking as his body forcibly regurgitated it all in a splatter of red. A few fragments of broken teeth went skidding across the ground.

There was a crunch as one was crushed beneath the heel of a shiny black boot.

That pair of blue eyes – the ones that had watched from a distance – crinkled in mirth, narrow and slitted like a snake.

“You’re free to stop this any time you wish, you know,” Virus began, walking over and squatting low. He pulled the man’s face from the pool of pulpy crimson, blunt nails digging into his skin. “We even agreed on a safe word, didn’t we?”

His voice was dripping in amusement, his face pulled into a faux pout as he smushed the man’s cheeks together playfully.

“Just one word, and we’ll stop.” Trip offered, as if it was something so simple – it was and it wasn’t. He cocked his head to the side, then, turning back to his companion.

“Maybe he forgot what the safe word was?” He offered, watching the man struggle against his restraints and Virus’ painful grip on his chin.

“I suppose we should remind him, then.” Virus released suddenly, watching the man’s head hit the floor with a wet thud. With the toe of his boot, Virus rolled the man over onto his back, before stepping over him so that he straddled the man’s waist.

“A name,” he hissed, his voice changing from honey to razorblades as he lowered himself onto the man’s stomach roughly. There was sickening crack and a pained cry from the man as one of his fingers was crushed between the floor and his back. Virus mouthed a low ‘oops’ and rolled his hips, effectively grinding the broken digit against the ground. “—of whoever it was who sabotaged that last mission. There was a lot of money on the line, you know.”

There was an awkward moment of coughing and sputtering, as the man tried to form words around the excess of fluid pooling in his throat. Each time he gagged, he sent flecks of the stuff spraying over Virus’s front, red sinking into the fabric of his clothes and decorating his flesh. The smile never faltered – if anything, Virus’s face only grew more content as his tongue flecked out to catch a drop of blood that landed near the corner of his lips.

The man shuddered, unable to comprehend the creature that sat atop him, still moving his hips as he leaned down low, until their noses were only a centimeter or two apart.

“Did you bite off your tongue when Trip was messing around with you?” Virus came suddenly, blue eyes blown wide as he grabbed the man’s chin in a firm grip and began prodding at closed lips with two gloved fingertips.

“He can be such a brute, sometimes.” He carried on, stretching down the man’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb like someone inspecting a dog. The man refused to open his mouth, unable to let himself give into the humiliation. After a moment of struggling, he couldn’t resist any more when a thumb jammed harshly between the rows of his teeth and wrenched them open.

“Good boy.” Virus leaned back, his heavy-lidded eyes never leaving the man’s, which were blown wide as two fingers slowly pushed inside his mouth. He felt them brush against the back of his throat, and the man fought the urge to vomit, his stomach churning and tears beading in the corners of his eyes as the hand continued to stretch his jaw past its limits.

“I think you broke him, Trip. . .Oh no, I found it.” Fingers tightened around the slippery organ, thumb digging in hard to make sure he held it tightly as he slowly drew his hand back.

“Still intact,” Virus began, scrutinizing the organ with the same gruesome interest with which a scientist would dissect something – all morbid curiosity and clinical detachment. As if the man’s tongue weren’t anything more than an object for him to turn over and study; as if the man himself were the very same. “—for the most part.”

Virus loosened his grip, and the tongue slipped naturally back into the man’s mouth, aching in pain and retreating as far away from those prodding fingers as possible.

“I was trying to go easy on him.” Trip shrugged, smirking a bit in surprise when he saw Virus shove another finger between his teeth, stretching the man’s jaw until the pain was almost unbearable. He whimpered, trying to bite down against the digits but finding himself too weak to do so. It also didn’t help that he was missing more than a couple teeth.

“You still managed to do quite a number on his teeth.” Virus marveled, reaching back to run his fingers along the row of bloodied pearly whites. He stopped and wiggled one of the man’s canines, feeling it loosen as he tugged. He laughed a light, airy laugh, before letting go and plunging his hand back into the man’s mouth.

“I wonder how many of them you swallowed.”

Three fingers bumped against the back of the man’s throat, gently but persistently coaxing the wave of nausea building up thickly inside him. His shoulders rose above his head as he started to gag, Virus rolling off the man and pushing him onto his side as his fingers pulled free in one quick movement.

Eyes burning and heart racing, the man retched onto the floor, several teeth clattering onto the tile along with the small amount of a cloudy red substance that splattered across the floor.

“Eat. . .shit. . .” He managed after a moment, rasping between bouts of coughing up the rest of the fluid that had risen into his throat.  

“I think he’s mad at us.” Trip smirked, one brow arched as he awaited a response from Virus.

“Ah, is that true?” Virus said, as if it was something surprising. Another fake pout appeared on his face as he gently stroked strands of sticky black hair behind the man’s ear. “Is it because Trip was so mean to you a moment ago?”

The man shivered as Trip cracked his knuckles from somewhere behind him.

Virus’s face suddenly lit up, a grin splitting across his features.

“Maybe I should try being nice instead.” With that, he stood up from the man, who exhaled in slight relief as Virus padded away. For a moment, he simply lay there, his eyes slipping shut. Maybe if he just focused on the pain, the creeping black fog in his mind would take over, and he would –

“Hey, no napping.” Trip jostled the man’s head with the toe of his boot, shaking his eyes open. The man groaned as he was torn from the brink of unconsciousness by a hand tugging him up once more. He found himself face to face with Trip, as clicking footsteps came up behind him.

“I heard somewhere that if you want something from someone else, you should be kind to them.” Virus came idly, something jingling in his hands. Trip scoffed lightly, his eyes never leaving the man’s.

“I heard something similar.” He replied. Trip’s eyes widened as he scanned the man’s face, the unnatural and shocking blue of them striking a bit more fear into his heart. He looked more like an animal now, the tiny curling of his lips growing more and more prominent as he watched bloody drool dribble from the corners of the man’s mouth.

“Let’s test that out.” Virus came, reaching around and jingling the keys before the man’s face. “I’m going to undo your handcuffs, now, so remember – if you want something from someone, you should be nice.”

He slid the key into the lock and turned it, the man’s eye’s widening as he felt them go slack and clatter against the tile floor. He slowly started to bring his hands forward, straining a bit from how stiff and sore they were. He whimpered a bit when his wrists were caught once more, this time by Virus’s hands.

Somehow, those hands were colder than the metal cuffs.

“Since I’m doing this, you should be nice and tell me what I want to know, alright?” Virus whispered, his cheek pressing against the nape of his neck. He laughed, stepping back and releasing the man’s hands. Trip lowered him down against the ground gently this time, until he was shivering and kneeling in the pool of his own regurgitated blood, shakily bringing his hands around to his face.

There was a whimper when he saw his broken fingers, twisted in odd directions and quivering before his face. For a moment, he considered speaking out, of giving up and stopping this. He tried to speak, his words catching in his throat. Something was still holding him back.

“Oh, by the way – “

He turned his head up, his insides freezing at the sight of Virus’s wolfish grin. The smaller man nodded to his companion, who shoved the man forward with his boot, and took a hold of his shoulders.

“—since we decided to get rid of the cuffs, I’m just going to have Trip break one of your arms, instead. We can’t have you escaping, right?”

Virus circled around, until he was tipping the man’s chin up with the toe of his boot.

“You get to choose which one I break, though.” Trip added, finger’s drumming against his flesh.

Virus smirked a bit at that, nudging the man’s chin up a little higher.

“That’s considerate of him, isn’t it? So make your choice quickly.”

The man cried out, his mind racing fast.

“Tick-tock.” Trip muttered.

“I-I. . .” The man whimpered, unable to force any real words past his lips.    

 “Three. . .” Virus began to count down.

“P-ple..ase,”

“Two. . .” His grin disappeared.

“ – cuffs. . .again.”

“And one. Break them both, Trip.” The smaller man hissed, moving his foot away and letting his forehead crack heavily against the ground. Before he could say anything, he felt a pair of strong hands on him, one pinning him against the floor as the other bent his arm back with a quick tug.

The way Trip grunted as he pulled back made Virus bite his lip, a slight shiver of arousal running down his spine.

The resounding scream that was torn from the man’s already ruined throat echoed in the dark room, but was heard by no one save for the three that occupied it. Tears slipped down his cheeks, mingling with the sweat and dripping from his chin. He gritted his teeth, sobbing in anguish as he tried to prepare himself for the next arm.

It never came.

After a moment and panting hard, eyes staring down until the blinding explosions of white-hot pain across his vision had faded, and he was once again staring at the blood-soaked floor.

“Ready to talk?” Virus asked.

“No.” He came once more, his tone dripping with a certainty that he didn’t really understand, nor truly feel.

“That’s fine. I’m getting a little bored of you, anyways.” Virus replied nonchalantly, striding over to the table and plucking something up off of it. The man turned to look, and saw a syringe in one hand, as well as a glass bottle full of something clear, and a cotton ball.

A feeling of hope flooded his chest – maybe they were going to just kill him.

Trip flipped the man over, ignoring the grunts of pain he elicited as he carelessly maneuvered the twisted arm. Virus knelt at his side, taking the arm in his hand as he set the items off to the side. His touch was deceptively gentle, his face calm – no, peaceful even – as he twisted off the bottle’s cap and placed the cotton pad over the opening, before turning the bottle over and letting the alcohol soak into it. With the steady hands of a surgeon, he sterilized the syringe needle before wiping a section of the arm free of the blood and sweat that caked against it.

“This is an experimental formula, mind you – “ Virus began, tilting his head and looking at the man with a blank expression, before turning his eyes down to properly position the needle. The man prayed silently, sweat beading on his forehead as a mix of joy and dread stirred around in his stomach. “ – that should, assuming you remain relatively still, greatly increase the rate at which your cells regenerate for a short time.”

The man’s stomach dropped as the needle broke through his skin, channeling the strange substance into his systems.

“So you’ll be awake for a lot more fun, as long as you rest for now.” Trip added. The man’s gaze darted to the larger man as he spoke, and he was surprised to find that those unnaturally blue eyes weren’t focused on him anymore. Instead, they were turned towards the owner of the hand that was tugging Trip upwards by his tie.

The man felt as if he was going to vomit, when he saw Virus pull Trip into a heated kiss.

Trip was a bit caught off-guard, though the surprise quickly melted away as he began to reciprocate, hands groping at Virus greedily until one of them curled in his soft blond hair, the other snaking up his inner thigh.

“You’re hard already?” Trip growled, tugging Virus’s head back just enough to kiss a trail down his throat, before sinking his teeth in. Virus moaned out, nodding gently as a smirk curled in his lips.

“You should see yourself when you’re working, Trip.” He said, his voice almost a whisper as he skated his palms admiringly up Trip’s solid arms, which flexed and tightened beneath his touch. “I could come just watching you beat the shit out of someone.”

Trip smirked, bringing a thumb up to stroke over Virus’s bottom lip. He walked him back just a few steps, shoving the smaller man back against the table. The table shook under their weight, sending a couple items clattering to the ground.

“I was getting a bit excited earlier,” Trip admitted, not really concerned at all about the noise, or anything not-Virus at the moment.

The man’s eyes flicked to a pair of scissors that had fallen only a few inches from his intact arm. He glanced quickly back to the duo, watching in slight disgust as the larger man stroked across his Virus’s cheek with uncharacteristically soft touches.

“—that sweet voice you were using when you were being so nice to our guest—“

Trip did something that the man didn’t see, and Virus moaned aloud, throwing his head back. If he could just reach out and grab the scissors, then he could escape.

“—with such a cute expression, too. You should be like that more often.” He snorted, not noticing as the man’s fingers twitched towards the only current hope of release within his grasp. Virus moaned again, bucking his hips against Trip’s hand.

“I like sweet things, so you should ask me like that the next time you want me to fu—“

There was a metallic scrape as the man grasped for the scissors, and a rush of panic when he only succeeded in knocking them further away. He looked up, and both sets of icy blue eyes were trained on him. He felt like a prey who had snapped a twig underfoot, thus drawing the icy blue eyes of the predators. He had half a mind to apologize, but the inside of his mouth felt like dry, cracked clay, and his tongue hung heavily and uselessly behind his teeth.

What other options were there? The metaphorical door of escape had just slammed shut in his face, the lock twisting closed as he felt what surely must be the peak of despair grip the quickly-beating organ in his chest like a vice.

Virus pushed Trip off of him, the latter glaring daggers at the man who tried in vain to push himself away as clicking footsteps brought the smaller man to halt beside him.

“You’re a pain.” His voice cut like a knife, eyes narrowed in malice as he brought his heel down over the man’s reaching hand, and slowly applied the pressure as he turned. Fingers bent and broke at the force, a dry scream catching in the man’s throat, leading him to only flailing and squirming as his mouth hung open like a caught fish gasping in the open air. His eyes raked down Virus’s body, his stomach churning at the realization that his abuser was, indeed, aroused.

The man’s body went limp after a moment, the pain and the terror and the intense desire to simply cease existing mixing with something new and foreign – a stinging, not unlike the burn of an antiseptic on an open cut, winding its way through his body and twisting up with all the brokenness inside. It settled uncomfortably there, a heavy and numbing burn.

“Ah, I think the drug is started to take effect.” Virus noted, his voice a pleasant, disinterested hum.

Through the cloudy black haze, the man’s eyes darted back to Trip, who was sitting on the edge of the table, shoulders hunched as he watched Virus hungrily. He wasn’t even looking at what Virus was doing, the man noted, but was instead watching the emotions play across the profile of his companion’s face. Every hitch of Trip’s breath correlated with some expression of enjoyment from Virus – sucking his lower lip back in twisted excitement at the crack of tiny bones underfoot, or a soft, breathy gasp that tapered into chuckle as he further broke the man beneath him.

The admiration with which Trip watched Virus was not unlike a pet to its master. It was a half-baked observation that only cemented the inhumanity of the pair further within his mind.

“Put him on the bench and restrain him.” Virus ordered, suddenly removing his foot and backing off, looking to Trip, who pushed himself off from the table and responded immediately. He picked up the man easily, lofting him up and over his shoulder. The man had half a mind to thrash about, but the drug’s effects were near paralyzing. He hung limp as he was lowered onto the steel bench, and maneuvered like some sort of toy until his wrists and ankles were bound tightly by leather belts.

The moment Trip pulled the last belt tight and secured it, Virus grabbed for his collar and pulled him into yet another heated kiss. There was no slow-build up this time, the exchange quickly morphing into something that was all teeth and tongue and hands tearing and roughly shoving until Virus was working Trip’s belt off and slipping the buttons on his shirt through the holes with his teeth.

“Fuck,” Trip breathed, and the man felt the bench lurch under the larger man’s weight as he leaned heavily against it. Virus was on his knees, pulling Trip’s cock free from his briefs and kissing along the shaft with obscene reverence. Rough fingers gripped handfuls of the smaller man’s soft blond hair, coaxing him further until the thick head was pushing past parted lips.

Despite the considerable size of it, Virus quickly swallowed him down, never once fumbling or gagging as he worked with his hands what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. Trip shuddered, a low, rumbling groan like an animal’s spilling past his lips as Virus began to bob his head. Icy blue eyes cut up at him, the corners of them crinkling in the lewd amusement of someone who knew full and well how good they were at sucking cock. 

Trip was staring back, seemingly enraptured and entranced at the sight of Virus’s tongue pressing against the slit of his cock, before swirling around the head and descending the length of his shaft. Virus was palming his erection through his slacks lazily, his grip on himself tightening as he took Trip into his mouth once more and sank down.

The man tried to look away, to mentally block out the wet sounds and dampened moans along with the sight of the thick shaft disappearing over and over again past those lips. When he was finally able to tear his gaze from the crude display, he merely found his chin being jerked back at an odd angle, forcing him to watch.

“Doesn’t he look so good like this?” Trip asked, his voice a smooth, low purr as he watched the man, who was in turn staring at Virus; the smaller man leaned back, lips parted as he gasped for air, his fingers jerking Trip’s spit-soaked cock for a moment before he dove back down and took Trip’s sac in his mouth, laving over it with his tongue. Trip moaned, and the man felt blunt nails dig into his skin, the sharp sensation of it cutting through the haze of pain that had settled over him with all the subtle constancy of white noise.  

“I wonder how much you’d like to be in my place right now.” Trip continued, the hand on his chin falling back, moving down his chest and settling over his cock. A new sort of terror filled the man to the brim, his breath catching in his throat as he pulled his hips inward in an entirely vain attempt to escape Trip’s hand. 

“You’re not even that bad looking. He might even let you come on his pretty face.” That hand pushed against his clothed cock, which despite being entirely limp twitched in response to both the touch as well as the lewd images that Trip’s words were shoehorning into his head.

“Don’t be gross, Trip.” Virus came, wiping his mouth and standing up. With somewhat labored breathing his shoulders rose and fell, and his abused lips were parted and red and swollen – the only cracks in his otherwise immaculate state of composure.

“Like I’d ever do something like that for a worm like him.” A splinter of bitter contempt jammed itself into Virus’s usually venomously playful countenance, and the man quickly understood – not that he really needed convincing – that people were as valuable as dirt to Virus. It didn’t matter at all who you were, rich or poor, beautiful or hideous, kind or cruel; they all stood equally worthless before Virus the god.

As for how Trip factored into said worldview – that was what escaped most people who were aware of their true personas.

Trip’s hand left the man’s crotch, forgotten as Virus leaned over him, kissing him deeply and working off his own pants. His belt clattered to the floor in the same moment that Trip stood up hurriedly, taking Virus with him and closing the distance between them and the table in one long stride.

No one ever understood. -

Virus grunted as he was all but slammed against the table, a few more tools going skidding across the tile floor as it shuddered and creaked under his weight, as well as the force of the larger man grinding him brutally into the surface.

– Virus didn’t love Trip, just as Trip didn’t love Virus. But he didn’t hate him at all, and even more than that he was pleased by how well Trip complemented his very existence, enabling and amplifying all the most thrilling parts. – 

Fingers tore the tail of Trip’s shirt from his pants just enough to worm under the hem until they felt hot skin. Virus raked up _hard_ , flesh collecting underneath his nails that left angry trails in their wake, and even made spots of blood well up in more than a few places.

\-- To have another living being at one’s side, someone who didn’t carry the same stench as every other miserable human, and who looked at you like you were the purest kind of white in a sea of mud; it was addicting. –

Trip dragged off Virus’s slacks with a similar fierceness, marking up pale thighs before moving on to shove down his own pants.

–  If Virus was a god, then Trip was his favored hound; one he didn’t bother to keep on a leash not because of an arrogant belief that his beloved beast would never turn on him, –

Trip lined himself up with Virus’s entrance, his cock painfully hard and leaking precum down the cleft of the smaller man’s ass. Virus rolled his hips impatiently, wanting Trip to just _hurry up and fuck him¸_ because he was so painfully aroused that it felt like he was burning up everywhere.

– But because he liked when Trip lashed out, sank his claws in deep and _dragged_ him close, as if Virus was the only thing in the world he craved.

In one long thrust, Trip was buried balls-deep inside of Virus, who all but hissed in pleasure as he gripped the edges of the table like he knew what was coming – and he did. Trip gave Virus only a moment to adjust—only as long as it took him to rip apart the man’s button-down and take ahold of his slender waist—before digging his fingertips in and drawing his hips back.

Virus gasped as Trip dragged him back over his cock, the thickness of it stretching him with just the right kind of _too much_. The larger man wasn’t gentle at all, quickly settling into a rhythm that had the table jumping and scraping against the floor it was bolted to as he railed into his companion.

There had been many times where Virus was annoyed at how much Trip had come to outgrow him – this was not one of those times, he thought half-coherently, moans spilling past his lips as he was being forced down against the desk by a large, powerful pair of hands, and pounded into by a cock that was as long and thick as Virus could ever want.

“By the way,” Virus began, his head turning to face the restrained man, who tore his head shamefully away from the sight, as if to cover up the fact that he’d been watching the whole time.

“— the drug – ah! – it’s still in the beta stage,” Virus continued, managing to force an astonishing amount of composure for one in his position, “and there’s a chance of the drug reacting negatively and killing you.”

The man glanced back to them, teeth gritted in silent prayer as Virus let out a load, shameless moan, the slapping of skin on skin growing louder and louder as Trip was spurred on. The larger man cut his eyes towards the one strapped to the bench, something unreadable in his expression.

“What’s the chance of that happening again?” Trip asked in a way that made it seem like he already knew the answer. He smirked, his hips never faltering in their movement.

“Ah, less than a percent.” The cruelly amused lilt in Virus’s voice wasn’t lost, despite the fact that his reply was forced out between hitched breaths. He laughed, before a sharp jerk of Trip’s hips had it breaking off into a moan that only increased in volume as the two forgot all about the man behind them, and focused on drawing as much pleasure from one another as they could manage.

“Ha – Trip,” Virus managed in between the moans that spilled out of his throat each time Trip’s balls slapped loudly against his ass, “—fucking _wreck me_.”

And Trip would – he always did.

Trip gritted his teeth and leaned over, gripping the side of the table in response to Virus’s shouts of “yes” and “harder”. He used the leverage to snap his hips with even more force, fucking him with vigor and pounding further into Virus’s core.

Virus loved it when it hurt, and the pain of Trip’s raw, ill-prepared cock penetrating him over and over and tearing him apart – it was so good. Virus’s mind was swimming in the excruciating pleasure of it, his senses flooding as he groped at the other man, pulling him closer and forcing – not begging – Trip to give him _more, more_ –

There was a telltale rip of fabric, the smaller man’s fingers tearing his shirt and clawing across Trip’s taut, powerful back. He was fucking deeper than ever into Virus’s receptive body now, each thrust making Trip’s eyes roll back from the tight, searing pull of heat around his hard cock. They were both insatiable, each one selfishly dragging more pleasure out of the other, pushing their limits as far as they could.

“Nn – ah, that’s –“ Virus couldn’t finish, his words catching in his throat as a whimper pulled out, and Trip knew he was doing a good job because Virus _never_ whimpered unless he was getting fucked incredibly well. Without the shame to feel embarrassed – or even the ability to feel anything that wasn’t a big cock screwing him hard over the top of a table – Virus snaked his arms around the larger man’s shoulders, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as the other gripped the base of his neck, fingers curling in the short, dyed-blond locks at Trip’s nape.

Trip dragged his eyes from the mesmerizing sight of Virus bouncing and split wide by his cock, instead focusing in on the pale white column of his neck. His tongue felt heavy and wet in his mouth at the thought of sinking his teeth into it, and Virus didn’t waste a second in tilting his chin up in a clear invitation.

Trip felt his member throb at the sight of Virus offering himself to him, and he responded quickly, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and clamping his jaw down _hard_. Without even a bit of hesitation tempering the act, his teeth tore through flesh like butter, not stopping until he tasted the metallic taste of blood.

Virus threw his head back and hissed through his teeth, his legs wrapping around Trip’s waist and pulling him closer, forcing the larger man’s cock so deep he swore he’d break. The head of it hammered against his prostate, Trip never faltering even as he drew back and sank his teeth in again and again, until blood was streaking down Virus's chest, and the smaller man was convulsing in his arms as brutal orgasm took him _hard._

He looked so perfect, Trip thought, fucking Virus through it all until his arms fell loose and he was melting against the metal table, panting and bloodied and somehow still moving back to meet every thrust. Virus clawed at the stainless steel surface, his cock still mostly hard despite the splatter of cum against his front.

Trip was unable to resist the urge to curl his fingers around that throat and _squeeze_ , and Virus bit his lip and shuddered as the larger man slammed into him hard over and over, putting just enough weight behind his hand that he could have easily crushed him, broken him – but Virus wasn’t afraid in the least. He wanted to gasp at the feeling of Trip spreading him, fucking him deep and hard while he was still so sensitive from his first orgasm; but he couldn’t, and so instead he bit down on his lower lip, focusing on meeting Trip halfway with each thrust. One particularly well-aimed stroke had Trip bucking up against his prostate, and in his heightened sensitivity, Virus’s hips stuttered as he cried out, an almost painful shock of pleasure making him clench around the larger man’s shaft like a vice.

“Shit,” Trip cursed, a grunt escaping his lips as the sudden tightness pushed him over the edge.

Trip’s hand tightened around his throat, and suddenly Virus couldn’t see straight as the assault of the larger man’s hips morphed into a slow grind, his cock shoving in deep and pulsing as he came hard inside of his companion. Trip’s hand loosened, and Virus gasped in the cool rush of much-needed air, his mind reeling as he felt hot seed painting his insides. Not even a moment later, Virus was curling his hands in Trip’s collar and coming dry, cock jolting a few times as a second, much less intense, orgasm hit him.

Trip collapsed partially over Virus, bracing himself against the table with his forearm, his head spinning from the force of his orgasm. Virus was panting too, his hands still fisted in the other’s collar and holding on tight as hot puffs of breath from the man above him ghosted across his face. After a moment, Trip pulled back, looking wild with his torn shirt, tousled hair, and bit of Virus’s own blood gathered in the corner of his mouth. His tongue flicked out, swiping the blood away.

Virus shuddered, but didn’t say anything when their eyes met. Instead he watched as Trip’s gaze flicked down to the sight of his softening cock sliding easily out of the abused hole, cum pooling on the table and streaking down the insides of Virus’s thighs. He grimaced at the smirk that spread across his companion’s face. He could tell Trip was pleased with himself – not that he didn’t have a reason to be; Virus didn’t even trust himself to properly move right now, let alone walk.

Trip pulled back, tugging his pants up and buttoning them but not bothering with his belt. He felt a draft on his back, and clicked his tongue lightly – so that was what he heard, he thought, pulling the all but shredded article of clothing from his body and discarding it. Trip glanced up at Virus, who appeared entirely unapologetic in response.

Instead, Virus pushed himself up tentatively from the soiled table – he was right, his legs were still quivering – and grabbed for his clothes, along with Trip’s discarded shirt. He cleaned off his front as best he could, wincing some as he blotted at the still-bleeding area around his neck. Trip had done a number on him for sure, and not just with the bites – Virus could feel the hand-shaped bruise forming around his throat and he shuddered, dropping the shirt to the ground as he pulled his briefs up.

He couldn’t deny the lewd satisfaction that tugged at the corners of his mouth, or how his limbs and the lids of his eyes felt heavy as he walked, his movements lazy and languid like a cat’s. 

“Check to see if the drug has fully taken effect yet.” Virus ordered, not bothering with his slacks as he approached Trip.

Trip looked confused for a moment, before he turned over his shoulder, levelling the man strapped there and breathing heavy with a disinterested gaze.

“Huh, I almost forgot about you.” He came, striding over before stooping low and swiping a scalpel off the ground.

The man shuddered, laying only half-aware of his surroundings while his brain was suspended in the drugged state. He groaned lightly at seeing their attention turned to him once more, his heartbeat picking up considerably. The pain had only just subsided, falling to the side as the stinging of flesh knitting itself back together had lulled him into a daze; He couldn’t handle it coming back, not again –

\-- If he just told them what they wanted, he could –

Something cut through the pleasant haze that had settled over him – or rather, through the lack of pain that had at some point become synonymous with “pleasant”— something cold and metallic that bit into the soft flesh of his forearm, slicing down with a surgeon’s slow precision.

“It’s worse the second time, isn’t it?” Virus called from somewhere that the man couldn’t see. He heard the telltale click of boots against the tile floor coming closer, bringing with them a somewhat disheveled Virus that appeared at his side, fastening the buttons at his collar. Spots of deep red blossomed against white, the expensive fabric soaking up the blood that still welled up in the bites that decorated his skin.

Those icy blue eyes flicked from the man’s face to his arm, the man’s own eyes following them. They watched as Trip swiped away the blood with the pad of his thumb, and already the incision was shrinking in size, slowly but surely until it was no more than a mere papercut. The only evidence it had ever been more was a long white scar, no thicker than a strand of hair, that spanned his forearm.

The pleased look that the two exchanged was enough to make the man whimper pathetically, his head falling back against the bench.

Virus had been right – it was worse the second time. Where terror and confusion had managed to blur the man’s senses and ultimately prevent him from feeling the full brunt of the pain being inflicted on him, he was now more lucid than ever. Terrified, still, but even more than that he was more receptive than ever, his nerves alight a singing with bright-hot pain.

“ – another side effect would be hypersensitivity – ” A voice, Virus’s, came; it sounded distant, and the man listened just as one would listen to someone speaking over the sound of crashing waves – straining, grasping for words that were all but lost to the angry frothing of his mind.

This time, as his eyes darted back and forth between nearly identical shades of blue, he realized something was different. Before their eyes had been heavy with morbid amusement, satisfied to bat him around in their little game of cat-and-mouse. Now they were blown wide and lit with hunger.

Whatever had come before had been their foreplay, and now they were no longer content to play with their food.

They weren't human, and they certainly weren't normal yakuza. They were a pair of demons in human meat; one that loomed, hulking and silent like a threat, and another that leered at him through the shiny designer frames of his glasses. When the latter reached out to him, any semblance of loyalty to anyone or anything other than his own self-preservation was thrown to the wind. When he opened his mouth to protest, he only found himself able to feel around in his mouth with his heavy, sandpaper tongue, as if the very ability to form words had abandoned him.

Virus grabbed his chin and dragged the blade across his cheek, carving a long, shallow slice that spanned from below the nose and ended only just beneath the corner of his eyes. The man shrieked in pain, thrashing against the bench with the good half of his body as the smaller man leaned in and swiped his tongue along the cut, gathering the blood in his mouth before twisting a hand in Trip’s hair and pulling him close.

“Mmmf—“ A low moan was caught between their mouths that worked eagerly against one another, tongues curling together as they both fought to dominate the kiss. Virus at first seemed the victor, yanking the larger man’s head back by a handful short blond locks. A bit of blood dribbled down Trip’s chin and dripped onto the restrained man’s cheek. The man flinched, wrenching his eyes shut as Trip rose up and dragged the smaller man closer, using the height advantage to drain the rest of the red fluid back into Virus’s mouth.

“Ha—“ Virus gasped when Trip pulled back for only a second. He caught him again, licking up into that hot, pliant mouth and rolling the taste of blood around with that of _Virus_ , a bitter intoxicating rot that he hungrily chased with his tongue as some of it threatened to escape through the sides of their mouths.

With a hand on the other’s shoulder Virus put a few centimeters between them and moved to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, only to have his wrist caught. Trip held it fast and off to the side as he ducked down, licking from the corners of Virus’s lips back to his jaw.

Through the excited flush on his face, Virus cut his eyes down to the restrained man and gave a crooked, breathless smirk. The man gulped dryly, more than a little taken aback by the sight of the man that was like a hound at his master’s neck. The corners of Virus’s eyes crinkled more, and he laughed, a cold, cruel sound that tapered into a soft gasp as Trip’s teeth closed around the lobe of his ear.

The restrained man’s lip twitched involuntarily is disgust, and the mirth dropped hard from Virus’s expression as he shouldered Trip away, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Beat him.” He ordered curtly, turning on his heel.

Trip cracked his knuckles, and Virus circled around to the table.

Within seconds, the sound of punches colliding with flesh filled the room.                                           

Virus scanned the tabletop, his fingers skimming over an array of tools. He frowned, before leaning down to collect the tools which had fallen before.

There was a grunt, a cough, and the sound of something skidding across the tile and hitting the far wall.

Virus plucked up a pair of shears, his fingers running over the blade. A little dull, he thought with an amused chuckle.

“We’re going to try this again,” He began, circling around to the restrained man’s feet, and unlacing his boot with one hand as the other placed the shears off to the side, “—this time without distractions, alright?”

Panic spread through him like an ice-cold web that prickled at the tips of his toes and fingers. He tried to speak, to give them the name, to give up anything and everything he knew – but he could only croak pathetically, his foot twitching against the restraints and Virus discarded his sock, never once breaking eye contact as he began to roll up the soiled pant leg.

“You set the pace.” Trip added, rubbing the back of his dominant hand and feeling for anything he might have dislocated. “—tell us the name, and we stop. You don’t and, we continue. It’s not hard.”

“You’ve got a lot of control here.” Virus added, before wrenching the shears open and positioning the blade around the base of the man’s little toe. The metal felt blunt and cold as it tickled against his skin, and the sweat that had gathered on his face began to drip onto the bench.

There was a long pause, both parties doing nothing but stare, the man clenching and unclenching his muscles as he swallowed back the thick saliva that had gathered atop his tongue.

“I’ll start, then.” Virus sighed, tightening his fingers around the grips of the shears. “Who interfered with the mission? Th-”

“Ma—Matsushita.” The man blurted out, the words tumbling over his tongue and past his lips before Virus had even begun counting. Virus and Trip exchanged glances, looking a bit surprised.

“Matsushita Yori.” Virus began, rolling the name over his tongue like he was trying to determine the flavor of it. The shears pulled away just enough from the man’s foot, and he all but melted back against the bench, eyes slipping shut for just a moment. “. . . I didn’t think he was the sort to dirty his fingers like this, but I had a hunch he was involved. So he hired you?”

The man nodded slowly, his eyes still closed in the small relief he felt.

“That’s all I know.” He promised, words panted between his swollen lips.

“I believe you.” Virus nodded, the shears never moving an inch further away. He turned to Trip, a slight glimmer in his eyes that made fear gnaw at the edges of the man’s mind. The larger seemed to agree with his statement when he nodded as well, his heavy frame leaning against the table as he looked down at the restrained man. The pair’s eyes were trained on him as if he was a piece of meat.

“Does this. . .” the man started feebly, his head lolling off to one side as he tried to force his words through his hoarse throat. “. . .mean I can leave?”

Virus and Trip exchanged glances, the former turning back to the man with a grin splitting across his features.

"Eventually."

**Author's Note:**

> please comment and kudos if you enjoyed this! it means a lot!


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